re not so
mortal. The fact is, my lord weeps for the _press_, and wipes his eyes
with _the public_."

CCCXXIV.--REASON FOR GOING TO CHURCH.

IT was observed of an old citizen that he was the most regular man in
London in his attendance at church, and no man in the kingdom was more
punctual in his prayers. "He has a very good reason for it," replied
John Wilkes, "for, as he never gave a shilling, did a kindness, or
conferred a favor on any man living, _no one would pray for him_."

CCCXXV.--A BISHOP AND CHURCHWARDEN.

BISHOP WARBURTON, going to Cirencester to confirm, he was supplied at
the altar with an elbow-chair and a cushion, which he did not much like,
and calling to the churchwarden said, "I suppose, sir, your fattest
butcher has sat in this chair, and your most violent Methodist preacher
thumped the cushion."

CCCXXVI.--STONE BLIND.

LORD BYRON'S valet (Mr. Fletcher) grievously excited his master's ire by
observing, while Byron was examining the remains of Athens, "La me, my
lord, what capital _mantelpieces_ that marble would make in England!"

CCCXXVII.--AGREEABLE AND NOT COMPLIMENTARY.

IN King William's time a Mr. Tredenham was taken before the Earl of
Nottingham on suspicion of having treasonable papers in his possession.
"I am only a poet," said the captive, "and those papers are my
roughly-sketched play." The Earl examined the papers, however, and then
returned them, saying, "I have heard your statement and read your play,
and as I can find _no trace_ of _a plot_ in either, you may go free."

CCCXXVIII.--DR. JOHNSON WITHOUT VARIATION.

DR. JOHNSON was observed by a musical friend of his to be extremely
inattentive at a concert, whilst a celebrated solo player was running up
the divisions and sub-divisions of notes upon his violin. His friend, to
induce him to take greater notice of what was going on, told him how
extremely difficult it was. "Difficult, do you call it, sir?" replied
the doctor; "I wish it were _impossible_."

CCCXXIX.--MR. CANNING'S PARASITES.

NATURE descends down to infinite smallness. Mr. Canning has his
parasites; and if you take a large buzzing blue-bottle fly, and look at
it in a microscope, you may see twenty or thirty little ugly insects
crawling about it, which doubtless think their fly to be the bluest,
grandest, merriest, most important animal in the universe, and are
convinced that the world would be at an